Beautiful Secrecy
by Emilamoo
Summary: "Outside, the snow continues to bluster, concealing the two away in beautiful secrecy." What if Will were still in his office when Alicia came back after their stolen kiss? Spoilers for 1x17: "Heart." A/W; A/K friendship. Happy birthday, Cali.


**This is a birthday present for Cali (itsdelovely on Tumblr). I was given a few prompts and tried my best to do two (an alternate ending to the "Heart" scene and an A/K + Alcohol scene). Not gonna lie, I struggled quite a bit with this, but I hope you enjoy it and had a spectacular day nearly half as fantabulous as you are!**

**This takes place right as Alicia gets back into the elevator after fleeing from the Kiss, going down the parking lot, etc.**

**P.S. This is my first time even trying to write Kalinda, so if she's horribly OOC, forgive me. I tried my best and find her a tad more difficult to write than the others.**

**Rating: T+ (for brief strong language and sexual situations)**

**Spoilers: 1x17, "Heart"**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Good Wife **_**or any of the characters affiliated with it.**

* * *

**Beautiful Secrecy**

"This is not a good idea," Alicia mumbles under her breath as she presses the button to the 27th floor, dragging her hand along her face tiredly. Her heart thuds rapidly in her chest; for a moment, she's afraid it may burst straight through. Her eyes shut, and the only noise she can hear is her shallow, uneven breathing; the beeps and hum from the elevator go unheard. There's so much wrong with what she's about to do. Deep in her heart, though, she feels a stir and truly believes she's justified (or, at least, wants to believe). In her mind, she rehearses what she'll say to Will before she leaps in.

It's something along the lines of: _We both know I can't start a new relationship now. I have to put my kids first, no matter what I may think I want. But I can't deny that this… _here she would gesture between them, _thing between us doesn't exist, because it does. It'd be insulting to pretend otherwise. And I know how much I'm asking of you, that I'm asking to _use _you, and I understand that it's unfair, but, Will… I… you… you're just… I can't get you out—_

The doors ping open before she can finish her imaginative monologue. Her eyes flash open, and her heels make faint imprints in the carpet as she makes broad, definite strides towards Will's office, contradicting her wavering thoughts just moments before. As she nears the dim lamplight, her confidence wans, and her gait falters for the briefest of moments. She can see Will's outline hunched over his desk, face in his hands, as she halts in the middle of his doorway. Her mouth opens, but she can't seem to summon the nerve to speak.

Before she can draw upon her courage (or before she can lose it and flee back into the night), Will glances up and notices her. He swallows visibly, gradually rising from his chair and making meandering steps towards her, as if aware of how she's ready to bolt in a nanosecond. She's frozen in her spot, caught like a deer in headlights, until he stops a few feet before her, not wanting to scare her off by coming too close.

Not much to her surprise (he's always been a little too worried about hurting her, even back at Georgetown), he holds his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "Alicia, look, I'm sorry," he begins in that damn soothing voice of his, the one that haunts her in her dreams and leaves her panting and sweaty in her bed. His eyes reflect regret, sorrow, and over a decade of longing. There was many a time back in law school in which she got lost in those same irises. "I shouldn't have—"

"Don't," she breathes, stopping him before she can begin to think about how he's right.

Her coat drops to the floor, and any previous traces of the elaborate, grand speech she had in mind are erased as she lunges forward, cradles his face with her hands, and smothers any further protest he can make with the desperate press of her lips to his (for the second time that night).

Her sudden weight knocks him off guard (both literally and figuratively), and they stumble back into the office, his hands locked around her elbows to keep them both upright. His mind whirls, stuck a thousand miles behind his body and sprinting to catch up, before a sharp nip at his lower lip jolts him to the present.

Will's hands grasp at her silken hair, her firm waist, the subtle curve of her back—anything and everything he can as he takes from her, consuming her completely. Both their senses are taken over by the other: Alicia's expensive, cinnamon-y perfume; Will's masculine, commanding grasp; the soft gasp escaping Alicia's mouth, and the echoing way Will's breath hitches in return. Neither can focus on anything but the sensation of being fully caught up in each other for the first time.

The faint crash of Will's pencil cup tumbling to the floor is either ignored or unheard by either as Alicia is pressed against the hard line of the edge of his desk. The moan of surprise that escapes her mouth is swallowed by his ardent kiss, lips pilfering from her with a brazen abandon she didn't know existed. The nails of one hand anchor into the back of his neck, the others combing through his hair, and his fingers dance along her spine.

When he applies slight pressure at her sweet spot, the area in which her spine meets her tailbone, she gasps, mouth detaching and startled eyes meeting his. Her hips roll forward on their own accord (or that's what she likes to tell herself, at least), meeting his sturdy hips, and he groans, eyelids slamming shut tightly as he realizes there's no possible way she can't feel his yearning for her.

"Alicia," he grunts out, grip loosening a little in slight embarrassment.

Instead, it fuels her. This rumbling, direly erotic chuckle escapes her, and when he finally opens his eyes again, she's observing him with those keen eyes of hers, one eyebrow raised in a silent taunt. She knows exactly what she's doing to him.

In retaliation, he growls gruffly, grabs her by the back of her neck, and kisses her fervently until she can no longer breathe. He almost thinks he can feel her smirking against him, but he can't bring himself to care.

Alicia eventually gains back enough of her senses to push at his jacket. He seems to get the picture, because he blindly fumbles to shuck it off all while keeping their lips attached. Her hands immediately move to untuck his shirt, and, once tugged free, her knuckles trail up and under before her palms skate across his broad, oh-so-warm chest.

Suddenly, his hands cease their exploration under her blouse, unbuttoned jacket, and hitched skirt (when did that happen?). His lips part from hers with the soft whimper of protest on her end, and she opens her eyes to find him staring at her with such a fiery desire that she nearly shifts under the gaze. If not for that look, she would have been worried that she made the wrong move and were about to die in humiliated shame. She's about to speak to ask him why he stopped when he beats her to it.

"We can't," Will begins, but it comes out a hoarse croak, and he clears his throat before continuing. "Alicia, we can't do this right now." Her eyes widen, a flash of devastation lighting them—oh, God, she _was_ being denied—before he notices it and quickly adds, "Not here, at least. I don't want this… I don't want our first time to be a cheap, quick fuck in the office."

Blinking, she glances around them, taking in their surroundings before realizing he's right and feeling foolish for thinking otherwise. Her eyes take in his appearance—disheveled hair (a look that she's been fond of since early morning classes at Georgetown), dark, hungry eyes, and bruised lips—as she nods. "You're right," she agrees, thinking that she should be embarrassed by the dire need expressed in her throaty voice but discovering herself not caring, "not here."

He moves to collect her coat pooled on the floor near the doorway, giving her time to collect herself and straighten out her clothes. She takes it from him with a crooked smile, and, as he works on fixing his own clothes, he informs her, "We can either check online for vacancies or just try our luck with the nearest hotel."

"No," she states, shaking her head, and he pauses, his second arm only half in the sleeve of his jacket as he glances at her questioningly. She steps closer to him, meeting his confused gaze as she fixes his tie. Her voice is soft, not necessarily a command but still sure. "Your place."

Will smiles.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, their legs are tangled together, his arms secured around her waist as he moves powerfully inside her. The only light filters in from the city outside his window, but he doesn't need it to memorize her; he can picture her pale skin and ebony hair spilled across the hunter green sheets even without it.

The strong lines of their bodies mold into each other, no longer two separate beings but one soul together. Will is no fool; he doesn't have some naïve notion that, tomorrow, they're going to ride off into the sunset together. He's smart enough to know that this isn't some life-altering event in which both of them may never be the same again (well, he may not be, but he isn't so sure about her). But, as she lets herself go to him, legs wrapped around his waist, hands splayed along his rippled back, and his name spilling from her lips, he can cling to her and pretend it is.

Outside, the snow continues to bluster, concealing the two away in beautiful secrecy.

* * *

"You did what?"

Alicia hesitates. Was this a poor decision, going to Kalinda about her night of spontaneous indulgence? "I spent last night at Will's."

They're at one of their favorite bars, people bustling about them but paying no heed to them, minus the pair of much-too-young frat boys (not subtly) leering at them. They manage to ignore them just fine, though.

"And did you…?" her friend's cool, almost airy voice trails off inquiringly. The somehow both withering and pointed look directed at Kalinda is more than enough of an answer, and she nods. "Got it." A slight pause hangs heavily in the air between them before she speaks again. "What happened?"

The first-year associate' evades answering, flicking back a shot of tequila instead. Yes, it was definitely an unwise choice of actions on her part. "And we are no longer discussing this particular topic." She thinks she notices the slightest upward curl of Kalinda's dark lips. Was that a smirk? She's pretty sure it was. Either that, or they upped the alcohol content level in her drink—which she wouldn't entirely disapprove of.

"How have things been lately, Kalinda?" Alicia questions casually, a poor attempt at diverting the attention.

The disdained tell on the younger woman's face reveals that she hasn't been fooled, and, with anyone, she'd be a bit insulted that she was seemed to allow herself to be distracted that easily. "Alicia…"

Alicia nearly scoffs, barely restraining the roll of her eyes. She knows this tone. She _detests _this tone. Her back straightens as she bristles defensively. "What? I fail to see how my sex life is subject to discussion when yours isn't." There isn't a chance in hell she's going to cave that easily.

Unfortunately, neither is her opponent. "So you did have sex."

Alicia is unable to even come near to concealing the entirety of her exasperation, so she doesn't attempt to. "I thought we already established this."

Kalinda's shoulders rise almost imperceptibly before they drop back to their natural positions. "Just double checking." There's another pause as she fiddles absentmindedly with her own drink before tipping it back. "Will made the first move, I'm assuming, correct?" she manages to slip out right after the liquor is gone and before Alicia has a chance to shoot her down.

Alicia couldn't hold back the sardonic bark of laughter that escapes her even if she wanted to. "What are we, high school students?"

As predicted, Kalinda plows on, quipping in that irksome tone of hers, "So he did."

It isn't voiced as a question, but Alicia is more than intelligent enough to know better. "Nice try. You get a golden star for valiant effort. Better yet, another shot." She waves at the bartender before adding, "But I'm still not going to discuss this."

In response, the investigator leans forward a bit, full-fledged into bargaining mode. "Fine. What do you want to know about me in bed?"

Startled, hazel eyes meet dark chocolate, serious ones, and Alicia is noticeably taken back, much to her own surprise. She's usually so spectacular at schooling her reactions, not much different to the woman next to her. A poker match between the two would be legendary. "Pardon?" she manages to sputter out eventually.

"You pointed out that it's not fair that we talk about your sex life when we don't talk about mine. You're right. Now, we are," she informs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "What do you want to know? Whom was my best lay?"

Alicia's fine eyebrows furrow, still taken off guard. She never expected Kalinda to agree to be so forthcoming with her, and, she figures Kalinda knew that. _Well done, _she muses internally, mentally marking down a point for the other. _You've won this round. _"No."

That doesn't stop Kalinda, however. "The last person I've slept with?"

"I don't—"

"My favorite position?"

"Kalinda—"

She's unfazed. "The weirdest place I ever did it?"

This is getting a little ridiculous by now. "Alright, I get it—"

Her friend's eyes dance with an inferno of mischief as she continues. "The place, person with, or age I lost my virginity? Maybe all three?"

Alicia fixes her with one of her signature stares, head poised to the side. "Are you finished now?"

Apparently, that would be a no. "Whether I'm into S and—"

"_Kalinda,_" Alicia's firm voice slices through the air, a bit more harshly than she intended, "I don't need to know about your sex life."

This time, her friend's smirk is unmistakable. "That's what I thought." The barstool creaks as she shifts. "Though, I hardly comprehend how it's fair that you won't let us discuss mine when that's the entire foundation of your argument as to why you won't talk about what happened."

Before she can delved further into the blatantly theatrical rant as to the injustice of the situation, Alicia finally blurts out, purely as a tactic to put this debacle to rest so they can both shut up about it. "He kissed me in his office," she confesses simply, eyes focused on the empty glass still cradled between her fingers.

Kalinda's only reaction is the faint dip of her head. "Really," she remarks , using her uncanny ability to make any question sound like a statement.

A dark wisp of hair is tucked behind Alicia's pearl-studded ear as she nods in confirmation. "He was beating himself up about the case. I comforted him, and then he just…" her voice diminishes to a murmur, the way crickets gradually cease their chirping at dawn, "kissed me."

Kalinda mulls this over to herself for a brief moment before gently prodding, "Was it sudden?"

Once again, Alicia straightens in her seat, shaking her head and her voice stronger with assurance. "No, he gave me plenty of time to pull away if I wanted to."

"Which you didn't," the investigator finishes for her.

She doesn't even bother attempting to deny it. "Right."

There's further musing over the new information before Kalinda asks, "Then what happened?"

The associate recounts how he had pulled away, she initiated the second kiss before fleeing, and her thoughts in the elevator as she made her way back up before she had deserted all inhibitions and went after him. Kalinda's head bobs up and down as she digests what occurred before once again speaking. "So… do you regret it?"

There's a long moment of thoughtful silence before Alicia shakes her head. "No. I don't. It's just…" her voice trails off before she shrugs helplessly, "we have bad timing. Always have, always will."

"Wow," her friend remarks, lips pressed together in a thin line. "That's bleak."

"Yeah," Alicia responds. "It is."

"That's life."

"Yeah," she repeats with a soft snort. "It is."

Kalinda raises the next, newly-arrived shot glass in a toast. "To life and its bad timing."

Alicia dips her head and raises her own. "To life and its bad timing."

The two flick back their drinks before Alicia's phone rings. Her eyes flicker to the caller ID before a wry smile ghosts across her lips.

_Will Gardner._

~FIN


End file.
